


Youngblood

by SushiOwl



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:42:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SushiOwl/pseuds/SushiOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter met Scott in a bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Youngblood

**Author's Note:**

> Beta read by [WhatTheHale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale).
> 
> Things that diverge from the original canon - oh, everything.  
> Scott is in his twenties when he meets Peter.  
> Peter is not a psychotic murderer.  
> Laura is alive and is alpha.
> 
> I **do not** give my consent to have my works listed on goodreads.

It was his 40th birthday, but Peter ducked out of his own party part way through. The socialites that had invited themselves over were too distracted dancing in his ballroom and drinking all of his liquor to notice his escape. He went to a bar, a small vial of monkshood tincture in his pocket. He wanted to get properly intoxicated, not just chase a buzz that never lasted.

The bar wasn't as busy as it could have been for a Friday night. There were even a few tables open. Peter took a seat at the bar and ordered brandy on the rocks. He stirred two drops of the tincture into it when the bartender went to tend to another customer and took a sip. It burned, and that was what he wanted.

He glanced around the bar, looking for this night's conquest. He found a luscious strawberry blonde wearing a swishy, short black dress. She was talking to an athletically built blond man, who had a sharp smile that was growing as he watched her talk. When they leaned in to kiss one another, Peter contemplated inviting them both home to play.

Then the woman turned to someone else who looked significantly like a third wheel. He was adorable though. He had a mop of black hair, a crooked chin and dark eyes. His pout was precious. Peter stretched out his hearing to listen in on them. 

“Are you sure you don't want to come to the party? It'll be fun,” the woman was saying.

“I'm sure,” her friend replied, poking at his drink with a straw.

“Leave the man alone, Lydia,” the blond man said, looping his arm around her waist. “If he wants to be a Debbie Downer, let him.” He socked his friend on the arm, causing him to wince and rub the spot. “Get a cab home, man. And don't do anything—or anyone—I wouldn't do.” He started leading Lydia away.

“That is a very short list, Jackson,” the abandoned guy muttered as his friends left.

Peter's lips lifted at the corner. He continued to watch the other man out of the corner of his eye. No one approached him, and he just flicked his eyes around in boredom. When he was finished with his drink and turned his gaze toward the bar, Peter got up to make his move.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked as he approached him and ran his fingers along the edge of the table.

The man blinked owlishly at him, looking younger than Peter guessed from his vantage point at the bar. “Me?” He indicated to himself.

Peter couldn't help his smile. “You.”

“Oh, uh,” the man glanced around, before he licked his lips, leaving them a little slick and shiny. He turned deep brown eyes up, gazing through his lashes in a way Peter was amazed wasn't intentionally alluring. “Sure.”

“What are you having?” he asked, indicating to the empty glass.

“Seven and seven,” the man replied with a half a smile. It was then Peter noticed the mole on his chin. He was awfully cute. 

He got them both drinks. He added his monkshood to his at the bar and then went to join the other that his table. The man accepted his with a word of thanks. “I'm Peter,” he said with an extended hand.

“Scott,” the other man said, returning the gesture with his smile widening. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Peter replied, leaning back in his chair and taking a drink of his brandy. “So what's someone as handsome as you doing all alone tonight?” He might as well just jump right in.

Scott gave a self-deprecating laugh like he didn't believe the compliment, which was a shame. “My friends went to a party, but I wasn't interested.”

“I was at a party myself, but I decided to leave.” Peter crossed his legs, the toe of his show just brushing Scott's shin.

Scott didn't pull away. “Is that why you're overdressed?”

Looking down at himself, Peter couldn't disagree. He was wearing one of his nicer suits and his shoes had been polished. He shrugged a shoulder. “Well, it is my birthday.”

That made Scott let out a chuff of amusement. “You skipped out on your own party?”

“I got bored,” Peter replied with a toothy grin.

“Well, happy birthday.” Scott leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “How old are you?”

Peter's brow jumped, and he lifted his drink to his lips. “How old do I look?”

“Uh.” Scott looked at him carefully, narrowing his eyes a little. “Thirty?” He tilted his head sweetly.

“I like you,” Peter told him, his grin growing. “I just turned forty.”

Scott's eyes widened in disbelief. “You don't look it at all. I would have thought thirty-two at the absolute most.”

That was part of the virtues of being a werewolf, but Peter didn't mention that. He laughed against the rim of his glass. “Careful. If you keep saying things like that, I may have to keep you.” The flush that spread across Scott's tan cheeks at that was just lovely. “How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?”

“I don't mind,” Scott said immediately with a kind of earnestness. “I'm twenty-two.” That was about the age Peter had guessed. He slid his thumb along the edge of his glass. “What do you do for a living?”

“I'm independently wealthy.” Peter loved to say that. He could usually judge a person by their reaction to it. He was used to greed or envy, and a lot of the time opportunistic expressions. But he didn't mind being looked at like a meal ticket as long as he got what he wanted in return.

Scott's eyes just shown innocently, a bit of wonderment there, which was... curious. “Cool,” he breathed out.

“And what do you do?” Peter asked before knocking back the last of his drink.

“I'm still in school. I've got a year to go before I get my veterinarian degree.” Scott sucked a piece of ice into his mouth and crunched it between his teeth.

“Ah, that's impressive.” He wasn't at all surprised that Scott wanted to care for kittens and puppies.

“I want to have my own practice someday,” Scott went on, his endearing smile turning even more passionate. It was sweet really. “I worked at a vet's office during high school. I fell in love with it.”

“Admirable,” Peter said, realizing he wanted to keep talking to Scott just as much as he wanted to have him naked... Okay, not quite as much, but close.

But talk they did. Peter learned about how Scott has asthma, but it wasn't as severe as it had been when he'd been a teenager. His years of lacrosse had helped strengthen his lungs. His mother was a nurse, so apparently caring for the sick and injured ran in the family. He also learned that the real reason he didn't want to go to that party was because is was being thrown by his ex.

“We got together we I was sixteen. We were together off and on for four years. It wasn't either of our faults, but we just couldn't make it work, despite how hard we tried.” He was rolling his glass between his palms slowly, his cheeks pinkened by the three and a half drinks he'd consumed.

Peter had stopped adding the tincture to his drinks. He wanted to be able to drive, to think. But most of all he wanted to remember this. He wanted to commit each flirtatious smile and glance to memory. Scott was too precious to forget.

“What's her name?” he asked.

Scott didn't respond right away, instead taking a deep breath and letting it out. “Allison.” he lifted his glass and drank down the watery remnants of his drink. 

“Allison,” Peter repeated, tasting the name and trying to imagine her. He slid his hand forward and touched Scott's fingers. “Another?”

Shaking his head, Scott looked at the fingers on his hand for a long, heavy moment, before he covered them with his own. “I shouldn't be talking about my ex to you.”

“And why is that?” Peter's eyebrow curved upward, and his fingers curled around Scott's a little more.

“Because you're trying to pick me up.” Scott wasn't looking at him, instead at where their hands were joined. He swiped his thumb along Peter's knuckles as if in apology.

“I don't mind,” Peter informed him, before he hooked his foot around the leg of his chair and used his other to push his chair around the table so he was closer to Scott. He lifted their joined hands, brushing his lips along Scott's fingers. “But, if you want to make it up to me...” He smiled as Scott stared at him intensely. “Come home with me.”

Scott's eyelids drooped, before he sucked his bottom lip through his teeth and gnawed at it. “Yeah, okay,” he decided with a nod.

Peter led Scott to his car, not missing the way his eyes bugged out a little since it was a designer model. At least he let out this adorable little giggle when Peter opened the door for him. “Are you sure you're okay to drive?” Scott asked as he got it.

“I'm fine. I have a very high tolerance to alcohol,” he told him as he put his hand on top of the car and leaned in a little. “Should I walk a line for you?”

Scott let out a short breath through his nose, shaking his head with a smile. “No, that's okay.”

The ride to the house was uneventful. The only reason Peter's hand didn't make its way to his passenger's thigh was because the car was a stick shift. There were no other cars in the drive, so Peter's guests must have made their way back to their own homes. Peter was glad to have the house empty, given that it was nearly midnight. He didn't want to deal with his “friends.”

Scott's face upon entering the house was a picture of awe. “Dude,” was the first soft word out of his mouth. “When you said you were wealthy, I didn't think you meant _wealthy._ ”

“What did you think I meant?” Peter set his hand on the bannister of the circular staircase, turning to watch Scott stare at the chandelier above them.

“A nice house and no need to work, not... a manor with wings.” Scott lowered his eyes, smiling again. “Do you have a Beauty and the Beast style library?”

“Do you want me to give you a tour?” Peter moved toward him, setting his hands on his hips as he came into his space.

Scott licked his lips, lifting his hands to cup Peter's elbows. “Sure. Can we start with your bedroom?” Peter smirked, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs. “A four poster bed,” he said once they were inside, glancing around even as Peter got his hands under his shirt. “Why am I not surprised?” He slung his arms around Peter's shoulders, pressing their bodies together. “I am surprised your comforter isn't gold though.”

“Gold is tacky.” Peter finally kissed him, and their mouths fit together like they belonged there. His lips were soft, and his tongue was warm and slick. He tasted like whiskey, soda and need. He couldn't help the growl that left his throat as he counted Scott's teeth, and Scott definitely wasn't complaining if the fingers that combed through his hair were anything to go by. He moved his hands around to Scott's back, feeling muscles hardened by years of sports, then down to grip his ass through his jeans.

Scott let out a sharp moan, before he broke the kiss. “Wait, I just—I need—“ He glanced around. “Bathroom?” When Peter pointed to a door, he extracted himself from the embrace and headed for it. 

Peter headed for the bed, taking off his jacket before he stepped out of his shoes. Then he heard a burst of laughter from the bathroom and lifted a brow as he looked over. “What's so funny?” he asked.

Opening the door, Scott leaned out. “You say gold is tacky, but your bathtub has feet.” His grin was brilliant, his cheeks flushed from alcohol and amusement. “And what are these knobs made out of?”

Peter slid his eyes away. “Pearl.”

Scott snorted. “Pearl. Okay, peeing for real now.” He shut the door.

Peter covered his face with his hand, chuckling. “Oh God.” 

When Scott came out of the bathroom, Peter was reclining on the bed shirtless with his belt undone. He swallowed, his cheeks growing darker as he saw him there, waiting. He slowly meandered over to stand by the bed, looking legitimately nervous now. “Okay, so I have a confession to make.”

Peter had been expecting this. He sat up, swinging his legs over to put them on either side of Scott's. He took hold of the hem of his shirt, rubbing it between his fingers. “You've never been with a man before.” It wasn't a question.

“No, I have!” Scott surprised him by saying, and his face went dark red at his eagerness. “I've just—both times they let me... y'know.”

“Top,” Peter provided, a smile spreading his lips.

“Yeah.” Scott shuffled his feet, looking down at where his shirt was being slowly lifted, and licked his lips. “But I want to... y'know.”

“Bottom?” Peter leaned in to brush his lips against Scott's chest, drawing out a shuddering sigh.

“Yeah,” Scott whispered. “That.”

“I can do that.” He pushed Scott's shirt over his head, before he drew his tongue over his dark nipple, earning a gasp. 

“Is this where you tell me you'll be gentle?” Scott asked, running his fingers through Peter's hair and scratching his nails along the back of his neck. 

“Do you want me to be gentle?” he asked, his lips moving up to Scott's neck, where he placed a sucking kiss as Scott's head tilted to the side. 

“Not—not really. I don't know.” The honesty in Scott's voice was breathtakingly lovable. 

“Well,” Peter began, pulling back and dropping his hands to Scott's jeans to pop the button. “Let's find out, shall we?” He lowered the zip, his knuckles running over the underwear inside and feeling the bulge there. He was hardening quickly, eager and wanting. He pushed the jeans down, and Scott put his hands on his shoulders to steady himself as he stepped out of them. Peter turned him, laying him down on the bed with his head on the pillows and moving over him. Scott gasped and blinked rapidly, looking around. “You okay there?” Peter asked, leaning in to brush his lips over the mole on his crooked chin.

“Yeah, that was just a bit fast. The room went weird for a second.” His eyes focused on Peter's face, going half-lidded.

“You're definitely a little drunk,” Peter informed him as he moved down his neck and chest, lips sliding along his flushed skin. He scraped his teeth along his nipple, and Scott let out a sharp gasp, his hands spasming at his sides like he didn't know what to do with them. That was fine. Peter would have them gripping the bedspread soon enough.

“Only a little bit,” Scott agreed, trying to hide the hitch in his voice as Peter nibbled at his belly button. 

Peter pulled Scott's underwear down, licking his lips at the sight of his cock, thick and dark, curving over his belly. He flicked his eyes up to see Scott gasp and tilted his head back as he sucked the head into his mouth, tasting the heady mix of bitter and sweet. He didn't linger, dragging his tongue down the length of it as he got Scott's underwear completely off to push one of his legs up, bending it at the knee. Scott's noise as he swiped his tongue over his puckered hole was music.

“Holy—” Scott arched his back, his curse ending in a strangled noise.

Peter definitely wanted more of that. He continued lapping at him, slow, torturous licks that had him twisting and tugging at the pillow under his head. Scott had definitely never experienced this before, and Peter was—well—he supposed he was _honored_ to be his first in that respect. He hadn't expected to feel such things for a college student he picked up in a bar, but there it was, the curling of warmth in his chest as Scott whispered his name like a plea and a praise all in one.

Hooking his hands under Scott's knees, he pushed both his legs up, spreading them and tilting his hips up so he was completely exposed. He swept his eyes over Scott's body, taking in the flush that spread over his face, shoulders and chest. He was breathing hard through parted lips, eyes hooded and glossy with pleasure. He leaned over him, taking his lips in a fierce kiss that Scott returned with fervor, grabbing onto Peter's head and tangling his fingers in his hair.

Peter rocked his clothed hips down, his own hardness straining against the fabric, and swallowed Scott's whine. “Ready for me to prepare you?” he asked in a soft voice, his lips still against Scott's.

Scott swallowed with a click, before he nodded wordlessly, a quick motion like he had to answer fast or he'd change his mind. 

Peter released his legs, but Scott grabbed his knees to keep them there. He turned and opened his bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom, dropping the latter on the bed as he opened the lube and slicked two of his fingers. He set down the lube and took hold of Scott's cock, surprising him and running his thumb through the precome on the head. He ran a finger around his hole, keeping his eyes on Scott's face as he did so.

The sigh Scott let out when Peter pressed his finger past the rim of his hole was almost surprised, like he was expecting more, maybe pain or just something else. He shifted, his muscles clenching down experimentally, so Peter curved his finger up and stroked. Scott let out a startled noise, eyes leaving the ceiling and glancing down, so Peter did it again... and again.

“Fuh—that—“ Scott's grip on his legs faltered, and he just let them splay out on the bed. He lifted his hand to bite down on one of his knuckles.

“Oh, none of that now,” Peter said, pressing the second finger in and repeating the curling with both of them. “I want to hear how much you love this.” He pumped Scott's cock, stroking in time with the movement of his fingers. He smiled as Scott curled his arms under the pillow and whimpered, his eyes shutting and mouth falling open wider. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself, curling the pillow around his head and moaning each time Peter's fingers brushed that spot inside him.

Honestly Peter would have been happy to just work him to orgasm like this, with only his hand around his cock and fingers buried in his heat. But his cock had other plans; it was so hard it was throbbing. He spread his fingers, stretching Scott with care, before he withdrew him. He quickly shucked his pants, grabbing the condom to tear it open.

“No underwear?” Scott asked, voice a bit hoarse from moaning so loudly, and wasn't that just beautiful?

Peter grinned, rolling the condom onto his dick. “It's my birthday.” He moved between Scott's legs, lining up.

“That doesn't make any sen—ah!” 

Scott arched as Peter pressed inside, moving slow but relentless until he was full seated and draped over Scott's body. Hands grasped at him, fingers digging into his back and thighs gripping his sides. He watched the shock on Scott's face fade, turning into pleasure as his eyelids dropped again, his curved eyelashes resting on his cheeks. “Good?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” Scott whispered, before sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. He clenched his muscles down on the cock inside him, and Peter grunted, rolling his hips down. “Really good,” Scott added, his hands moving to hook over Peter's shoulders.

“Glad to hear it,” Peter said lightly, as if he wasn't fighting the urge to pound into Scott until they both forgot how to communicate in words. He kept his movement slow at first, a deliberate and prolonged drag over that spot inside of Scott. He watched his every change in facial expression, the way the slightly pinched tension at the corners of his eyes soothed out

Scott couldn't get much leverage to rock his hips up to meet Peter's, but he was certainly trying, soft little moans falling from his lips. Peter took those lips with his own, sliding their mouths together and sucking on his tongue. He loved feeling the undulations of Scott's body, the clenching of his abs and tensing of his thighs as he tried to move the best he could.

Running a hand down to grip Scott under his ass and lift him up, Peter planted his knees against the mattress and started moving with purpose. He wanted Scott to start moaning and crying out again, those uncontrolled noises. He wanted him to lose control and just give himself over.

He didn't have to wait long. The thrusting of his cock in and out of Scott had his head turning, tossing back and guttural cries falling from his lips. His dug his fingers into Peter's back, dragging down and leaving stinging red lines that would heal in moments but had Peter giving an extra firm thrust. The sight of the long, exposed throat had him wanting to drop his fangs and sink them into the flesh bared for him. He kept them blunt, human, and just sucked hard at the skin, bringing blood so close to the surface he could taste it.

Scott gasped something, and Peter lifted his head to look at his face. “What's that?”

“M-more,” Scott bit out, licking his lips and opening his brown eyes. “More, please!”

It took a lot of self control for Peter's eyes not to flash yellow. He dragged his teeth along Scott's neck, before he took him by his hips and hoisted him up as he lifted onto his knees, forcing Scott's weight onto his upper back and shoulders. 

“Guh—!” Scott moaned, hands scrabbling at the pillows again. “You—you're stronger than you look—fuck!” He didn't even try to help, just endeavoring to hang on for the ride as Peter pumped into him like a piston again and again.

If Scott only knew. Peter fucked him _hard_ , wanting him to feel it in the morning, that pleasant ache that would remind him that he was Peter's for a night. He could just tell he was going to love it, and Peter wouldn't forget this either, even if they never saw each other again after this. He would always recall this night when he had such a lovely young man in his bed.

Scott suddenly tensed, eyes popping wide, before he snapped into an arch and let out a howl of a cry, coming with his cock untouched, which seemed to surprise him. Peter fucked him through it, not letting up on his thrusts until Scott was whimpering and pawing at Peter's hands while his cock gave valiant twitches. He was so oversensitive.

Peter pulled out, setting Scott down and tugging off the condom. He stroked himself once, twice, before he was coming all over Scott's stomach, their come mingling there. He held himself up over Scott, looking at him all flushed and marked and thinking 'this is mine' if only for that night. Then he flopped onto his side next to him, half lying on Scott's leg, but neither of them seemed to care.

He watched Scott come back to himself, the only sound in the room their mutual hard breathing. Scott blinked a couple times, before he turned his head to look at Peter. They stared at each other for a long mom. Peter was thinking about leaning in and kissing him to prolong the intimacy of the moment, but then Scott let out a snort and started to giggle uncontrollably.

Peter smiled as he watched him laugh for long and hard that he stopped being able to breathe, just shaking with silent gasps. “Do share the joke, Chuckles,” he said.

Sucking in air, Scott got control of himself, hugging his belly then looking down as he got come all over his forearms. “Sorry, I guess I'm just...” He turned his head back to Peter. “I'm really happy.”

Warmth and affection bloom in Peter's chest, and he stretched his neck out to kiss Scott's shoulder. “I'm happy too.”

Scott let out another good hearted laugh, pressing in to nudge his nose against Peter's forehead. “I'm also all sticky. Can I just...?” He pointed toward the bathroom.

“You don't need to ask permission.” For anything. Take it, it's yours. “Go ahead.” He turned so he was on his back and not partly lying on him.

Peter watched Scott's adorable ass as she slid off the bed, grunting as he was obviously experiencing some post-pounding soreness, and went into the bathroom, a smile on his lips. There was something about how Scott was so happy that really made the post-coital bliss Peter was feeling a special one. He wanted to wrap around Scott and not let go, maybe wrap them both up in the covers like a burrito. 

As he waited and listened to the spray of the sink's tap, he dug the edge of the covers out from under the mussed up pillows and pushed them down so he could get under them and pulled them up to his waist. He felt tingly all over, and it was going to be all the better when Scott got his cute butt out here and cuddled with him.

When Scott came out, he didn't even hesitate, He crawled onto the bed and splayed on his stomach half on top of Peter, his bottom half under the covers too. “You're so warm,” were the first words out of his mouth as he nuzzled his face against Peter's shoulder.

“Mm,” was Peter's opinion as he leaned his face against Scott's hair and took a deep breath. He smelled so good, a mixture of alcohol, a natural sweet musk and heady sex.

“What's it like living in this big house all by yourself?” Scott asked out of nowhere, tilting his big brown eyes up.

Peter smiled at him. “I wasn't always alone. My nieces and nephew used to live with me, but they grew up and moved out.” He missed them all the time, missed just having someone else there to talk to whenever. They still talked, but Laura was a very busy alpha, Cora was in school, and Derek was the very definition of antisocial.

“Oh,” Scott said, sliding his arm over Peter's middle to wrap around him more.

“Do you want to stay for the night?” Peter asked, trailing his fingers lightly over Scott's arm before curling them around his elbow. “I could make you breakfast.”

“You cook?” Scott's brow shot up.

“I cook.”

Scott tilted his head up more to look at Peter's face, before he lifted his hand to gently touch his jaw. He moved up, brushing their lips together, before he smiled. “Sure.”

Peter caught the back of his head and kissed him deep.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to [WhatTheHale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/whatthehale) for the beta. She makes my ramblings readable. 
> 
> EDIT: I decided to edit some of this out and make it a one-shot with some porn. I'm not inspired enough to make a full story out of this thing.


End file.
